


Confluence

by DragonlordStephi



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:18:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonlordStephi/pseuds/DragonlordStephi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeking the Philosophers’ Stone to restore their original bodies, brothers Ed and Al discover they’re not the only ones seeking the fabled jewel. Racing against the near-immortal alchemist Dante, both sides of the coin stumble across a plot bigger than themselves, a being called Father who dares to challenge God. The plotlines of the 2003 and 2009 series are combined in a new saga of the Brothers Elric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preludes- Echoes Across the Pond

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my attempt at combining the two FMA animes into one coherent plot. Of course, there will be some major changes, but I hope you will enjoy the end result. :) I will also include FMA: Sacred Star of Milos in the plotline, and Conqueror of Shamballa in a way that, if I dare say it, you probably won't expect. The light novels might make some sort of an impact as well, but alas, I don't have enough knowledge of the video games to really incorporate those. My apologies.

~Preludes~ Stones Across the Pond, Thrown at Different Times~

 

 

She couldn’t remember anything. 

Try as she might, there was only darkness, and then herself, sitting up on the sand-swept hill. She was covered in a shroud, scratchy and itchy against her skin, and wearing a thin nightgown. Shivering, she’d stood and pulled the shroud around her, as if it were a blanket. Now she remained still, lips slightly pursed as a small wind capered, kicking sand up as it went. She squinted against it and looked up. The sky above was full of stars, the light winking harshly. Quickly, she looked back down.

_Where am I? How did I get here?_

The woman frowned at the desert in front of her, foreboding and vast. Could she cross that? Why would she even try? Was there somewhere else to go? Was there somewhere she needed to be, something she needed to do?

“I was dumped out here like a body left to rot,” she hissed.

The words came slowly, the first with difficulty, as if she’d forgotten how to speak along with everything else, but as she continued, the process was easier and more fluid.

She looked over her shoulder, expecting to see more of the same- rolling, lifeless dunes with nothing but yellow-red sand clinging to the wind- but instead perceived the silhouettes of ruins, wreckage and crumbling buildings that had clearly seen better days. The wind was steadily picking up, now, starting to obscure her vision as effectively as a thick, persistent fog.

“A storm’s coming,” she said. She didn’t know how she knew; it was some vestigial instinct that her memory could not erase, most likely. In any case, _how_ she knew was not as important as what she was going to do with the information, and right now, that meant finding shelter. There was no part of her that had any inkling how bad the storms could get, and she was in no mood to be buried alive by desert dust. It was only as she was making her way towards the grey slabs of stone rising up like monolithic strugglers that it occurred to her that someone may have intended that same fate, and that was why she’d been left in the desert right before.

“But there’s no evidence someone left me there,” she chided herself. “It’s useless to contemplate. I could have been out here myself, doing… something…” Going down that path was equally useless, she had to admit; there was no evidence of that, either- at least, none that she would recall.

The smell reached her before she made it to the ruins. It was the stench of decay, the pungency of rotten flesh. Retching emptily, she put her hand over her nose and tried to breathe quickly and shallowly. Once she arrived, it was clear to see why. Bodies littered the remains of a street, falling out of doorways and windows. Hundreds of thousands, as far as her eye could see, just keeled over and motionless, with flies swarming over them and sand sweeping around them, were frozen in moments of agony and intense despair. There were no shrouds for them, no clean-up crew.

“Horrid, isn’t it?”

She whirled around, heart racing, fear pumping through her veins. The broken silence frightened her, and as she glimpsed the perpetrator, her fingers lunged forward of their own accord. They elongated into sharp, deadly spears of ebony, and the figure ducked. They whizzed harmlessly over the figure’s head and embedded themselves in the stone, to her amazement. _That’s solid stone… How did I just…?_

The figure sighed in relief, and she realized the figure was also a woman, though much, much older than she. Her wizened features appeared delicate and thinly-holding, as if she’d fall apart into a million glass pieces at any moment. An ancient being, she had to be. “Luckily for me,” the crone sighed, “you’re not quite used to it, nor have any control- otherwise I might be dead. I’m sure you can get those spears faster, m’dear, but practice on something else.”

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Where am I?”

“You can call me whatever you like,” the crone said. “This is Ishval. Or, rather, what remains of it.” The crone clicked her tongue. “Well, I’m glad Envy was correct. It’d be terrible if I came all the way out here and you weren’t present.” The crone beckoned her towards a building with no noticeable bodies, which she didn’t doubt the old woman had cleared out herself, considering the sheer number of them. “What can I call you?”

“Hmm?” She looked at the crone with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Your name, dear.”

“Oh.” A mild sense of panic enveloped her as they passed through the doorway and into an Ishvalan living room, rugs covering the floor and accompanied by upturned furniture. The old woman righted a chair lying on its side and sat down, but the confused younger one remained standing, eyes wide and staring at the crone as if she’d announced she had swallowed the sun. “My… name?”

“It’s all right if you don’t remember,” said the crone soothingly, though her eyes betrayed an ‘I-knew-it’ sense of superiority. _If she knew, why did she ask? Urgh, my head…_ She pressed a hand to her forehead and nodded, sinking to her knees unintentionally.

“Oh, where are my manners?” the crone said. “You must be tired. Here. This will make you feel better.” She pulled a red, glistening gem out of her pocket and held it out to the younger woman, jiggling it invitingly. “Go on. Take it.”

She reached for it and took it from the crone’s hand, turning it over in her fingers. “What… what do I do with it?”

“Eat it.”

She looked to the stone, then the crone, who smiled and repeated it. “Just eat it. You’ll like it, I promise.”

Tentatively, she pushed the gem past her lips and into her mouth. It dissolved on her tongue instantly, warmth flooding down her throat and into her body. The taste wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it wasn’t disgusting either. It was a sickly sweetness that was perhaps a tiny bit too strong, but it vanished as quickly as the stone had.

“Now,” said the crone. “Once this little gale is over, you and I can head to my home, and I can fill you in on the details on the way.”

“…Details…? But… there’s something I have to… someone I have to…” She closed her eyes. The feeling of duty had disappeared, even though it’d been foremost just a heartbeat ago. “Never mind.”

“Of course not, dear,” the crone said. She was so kind, so gentle. How lucky to find her so early after the amnesia. Maybe she knew.

“Do you know me, then?” the young woman asked. “Please, I don’t remember anything, and my fingers… my fingers turned into…” She clenched her hand into a fist. “Am I even… Am I even human anymore?”

“No,” said the crone bluntly, but she reached over and placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “No, you’re not, but that’s what I’m here for. If we work together, I’m sure we can make you fully human. Just give me the word, and we can be partners.”

Partners. Equals. It was better than being alone here, in the middle of the desert, with no one but the dead. “Sure,” she said.

“Wonderful,” the crone said, with a tone that suggested she wouldn’t have taken ‘No’ for an answer anyway. “Maybe I can name you something, mm? Would you like that?”

“Sure,” she repeated.

“Very well, then. I’ll call you Lust.” And the crone clapped her hands together, the sound echoing far longer than naturally, then placed two fingers just under Lust’s collarbone. A flash of light was accompanied by a moment of pain, and Lust gritted her teeth. Her fingers again began to stretch into the deadly spears once more, but then the agony vanished, and they retracted.

The woman drew her hand back, and Lust looked down. The skin was red and raw, smarting fiercely, and where the woman had placed her fingers there was now a circular mark, a winged serpent surrounding a triangle and eating its own tail.

“What is this?” Lust demanded, placing her own hand over it and glaring at the woman. “You didn’t- I didn’t give you permission!”

The crone seemed unperturbed by her sudden ferocity. “It’s merely identification, dear. So you homunculi can recognize one another.”

“Ho… homunculi?”

“Please,” scoffed the woman. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised. Part of you knew.”

No, Lust wanted to protest. No, she wasn’t. She was human. But humans couldn’t turn their hands into spears… and the word felt _right,_ somehow, in sound and in her mouth as she tried it out, lips and tongue feeling the word. “Homunculi… homunculus…”

 _That is what I am now,_ she thought. _Human is what I am trying to become. The rest… doesn’t matter._

 

The crone remained alone in the foyer, sitting in the plush chair. The phonograph played a record with dubious quality, but the sound still wafted throughout the air, comforting and familiar. She hummed along and watched the rain splatter outside, her window glistening and newly-cleaned.

The doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” she muttered. “I told them not to bother me…” Still, she urged her creaky joints to move and stumbled her way to the door. It had no peephole, which she’d been meaning to fix. That way she could avoid opening the door on idiots she had no patience for.

The door opened with a squeak of complaint from the hinges, in need of oiling. That was another thing she’d been meaning to fix but hadn’t quite gotten around to.

The girl standing on the porch was completely soaked through. Shivering, she looked up at the old woman and tried to smile, but the action failed, since her teeth were chattering so violently. Her black hair, sodden, was cut in a bob, barely above her black sweater. Her boots and skirt were fashionable, but in no way insulating- her entire outfit was rather impractical for this time of year, the old woman remarked to herself.

So as to not appear rude, she said, “Oh, dear! Child! What are you doing here? Come in, come in, or you’ll catch your death of cold!”

The girl whispered her thanks and stepped in, a pool of water starting to accumulate on the floor. The old woman tried not to appear irritated at it, and resolved to make the girl take care of it once she was warm and in some dry clothes. Soon as the storm was over, she reckoned, she could safely kick her out.

“M-m-my name’s Lyra,” the girl said, teeth still chattering. “I-I’m training to b-b-become a s-state alc-c-chemist, and-“

“Stories later,” said the old woman. “First, you better get in front of the fire. I’ll put something warm on the stove for you.”

“B-b-but are you D-d-dante?” she said.

The woman nodded, a slight inclination of the head. “Do you have some business with me?”

“P-p-please, m-make me your apprentice,” Lyra said. “Izumi s-said you were alone up here, and getting o-o-old, so you might need the h-h-help. I c-c-can work my k-k-keep. I worked as a maid for Yo-Yo-“ She sneezed. “Ah. Sorry. Yoki.”

Dante was slightly irritated that Izumi had described her as ‘old,’ though unfortunately her body was rather advanced in years. And if she had a maid, she could finally get some housekeeping done. What’s more, the girl wasn’t even asking for monetary payment, and what was a little alchemical training? Nothing at all. And furthermore…

She looked at Lyra closely. Wet, the clothes hug her body tightly, and her form wasn’t exactly displeasing. All in all, the girl wasn’t exactly unfortunate-looking, and if Dante ever grew tired of her…

“We’ll discuss possible apprenticeships later,” Dante said. “Right now, you need to get warm. Did you have dinner yet?”

“N-n-no,” Lyra said.

“Then let’s start with that,” Dante replied.

“Th-thank you,” Lyra said. “You’re v-very kind.”

“Oh, no, don’t flatter me, dear,” said Dante. “I just try to show the world a little bit of kindness, to thank it for the kindness it has shown me.”

 

Edward awoke feeling numb at his shoulder. Winry had warned him that might happen, but it still didn’t lessen the strangeness of it. Though moving made him nauseous, he turned his head ever-so-slightly.

It was there. His new arm was there, shining in the morning light with a metallic gleam.

He closed his eyes, both because the brightness was giving him a headache and because he didn’t want to cry.

“Brother?”

Al’s voice, extraordinarly chipper as always, sounded to his left. Ed grunted in response.

“Brother, you’re awake?”

“Yeah,” Ed replied slowly. “How are you feeling, Al?”

“I should be asking you!” Alphonse exclaimed. “Did you try to move the hand yet?”

“Don’t you dare!” Winry’s loud screech heralded her entrance, and next thing he knew, Ed opened his eyes to be looking into her blue ones. She was cross, and holding a wrench. “If you try to move it now, you’ll only hurt yourself. You need to wait a couple of hours.”

“That’s stupid,” Ed said.

“It’s the truth!” Winry said, hefting the wrench as if contemplating beating the lesson into him. Softer, she continued, “You like it, don’t you? Your arm, I mean.”

“Yeah, looks nice,” Ed said. He didn’t care what it looked like so long as it had a thumb and four fingers, but he had to admit that Winry had some pretty nice handiwork.

“Granny’s going to help you with the physical therapy,” Winry said. “But she’s a slave driver. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ed dismissed, and smiled. “So long as it works. Thanks, Winry.”

She smiled too, but it wobbled, as if she was about to break into tears. “Don’t thank me, you dolt. I was only fixing your stupid mistake.”

But it wasn’t fixed. All three of them knew that. Ed lost something, and Al lost even more. She could replace it… but it wasn’t the same.

 

 

“So…”

The ancient being below the streets of Central City looked down at his chessboard. The board itself was easily recognizeable, but the pieces were all strange, haphazard-looking amalgams of cloth, wood, stone, and bone found lying around.

“They have opened the Gate…”

The immortal moved one of the pieces forward. It looked the most piece-meal of any other, and it was clearly one of the older pieces as well, worn at the edges and falling apart. “So long as she goes to Liore, I will let her do as she wills… Wrath.”

“Yes, Father.” The homunculus stepped forward. “What is it?”

“Tell Envy and Pride to go along with her for now. If I give the order and she becomes… troublesome… I’ll have her brought here.”

“Yes, Father.” Wrath bowed. “But what do I do about her homunculi? She has her own Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Lust.”

“That merely means I can keep mine in reserve,” Father said, tapping his chest. “Do not test my patience, Wrath. Go.”

“Yes, Father,” he said for the third time, and took his leave. Then Father placed a new piece on the board, the smallest, and sneered at the assembled pawns. “I really didn’t expect a surplus of possible human sacrifices. How interesting.”


	2. Thorns of the Wilting Blue Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on FMA: Episode 4: A Forger's Love

 

       

“Aw, man!” Fifteen-year-old Edward Elric threw his empty wallet to his armor-clad brother, without any warning, and proceeded to pull both pants pockets inside-out. His gloved fingers, expecting to find coins or paper bills, scrabbled against nothing but smooth, silky cloth.

Alphonse caught the wallet in one huge hand. “Don’t tell me you’re broke,” he whined, his voice ringing with metallic reverberation. Though it appeared that his entire body was encased in bronzed armor, thus distorting the sound, truth be told there was no vocal box- no body- inside. The sound was produced by the armor, animate because of the blood seal attaching Al’s soul to what would otherwise be a lifeless, motionless heap of precious metal.

“Okay, Al, I’m not broke,” Ed said. “I have plenty of money. It’s just waiting for me at Central Bank.”

“You were supposed to make a withdrawal before we left,” Alphonse sighed.

“Well, I forgot,” Edward said, fingering the chain of his pocket watch. Maybe he could bunk at a military hotel for the night, and draw up an IOU.

“How could you forget? You never take things seriously!”

“I do too,” Edward replied. “Where’s the nearest military hotel? I’m hungry.”

“Ed!” Al snapped. “Does this mean we have to delay the trip to Liore?”

“It might,” Edward answered. “Unless I can get a loan.” He struck down a road in front of them, and after a moment, Alphonse bounded after him. Though he appeared cool and collected, Ed was just as irate as Al was, and the silence imposed between the two brothers was a necessary precaution to prevent another outbreak of their little spat.

After about five minutes of him strolling in absolutely no particular direction and Al following, Edward breathed a sigh of relief. A rather drab-looking grey stone building adorned with the military symbol occupied a corner lot. It wasn’t seeing much activity, and passersby didn’t spare it a second glance, but to Ed, it might as well have been a five-star at Central. “See, Al? Everything’s fine!”

Al shook his head.

As Edward began climbing the steps, a paperboy exited the building and started down them. His cap was pulled low, obscuring his face in shadow and making his ears protrude slightly from his head. He wore a green vest, and clutched a stack of newspapers to his chest. Though his chin was down, Edward could hear him sniffling.

All of a sudden, the boy threw the papers to the ground and whirled around, pointing an accusing finger at the still-open door of the military building. “You’re all cowards!” he shouted. “Every single one of you!”

“What was that about?” Al asked as the boy darted away, and Ed entered the lobby.

“Who knows?” Ed shrugged. “Kids are weird.”

           

 

The night wasn’t exactly refreshing, but it was better than sleeping out on the streets, which- Al remembered with distaste- was the result of the last time Edward had run out of money far from Central.

After breakfast, the brothers had their usual routine of perusing the town and asking the local populace about any particularly talented alchemists in the area, or those who couldn’t exactly practice but had great interest or knowledge in the area. Then they’d track those down and bamboozle them with questions about the Philosopher’s Stone. It wasn’t the most fruitful system, but it worked somewhat. In the past three years since they’d begun their search, they’d found lots of information about biological alchemy, though sadly not in the quantity or the quality that they’d prefer.

“Gifted alchemists?” said the shopkeeper who was their current informant. “Mm… the only one in these parts in Majhal.” She pointed to a hill just beyond town. “He lives up there. You’d have to be blind to miss his house. Oh! I know! Klaus!”

A capped head poked out of the room next door. “What, Mom?” It was the paperboy from the day before, and the displeased scowl was still adorning his face.

“You’re about to go on your delivery run, right? Why don’t you show these boys where Majhal lives?”

“Fine,” Klaus sighed, and beckoned them forward with apathy. “Let’s get this over with.”

“So,” Edward said as they exited the shop and started down a side road. “Are you familiar with this Majhal guy?”

“Yeah.” Klaus stuck his hands in his pocket. “He’s a flipping coward.”

“Lots of ‘em around here, huh?” Ed said, deadpan and hands in his pockets.

Klaus pivoted and jabbed a finger against Ed’s chest. “Hey! Don’t open your mouth if you don’t know what you’re talking about! This town has issues, and no one here is man enough to do anything about it!”

“Except you?” Ed said, slapping Klaus’s hand away. Though he didn’t say anything aloud, his eyes held a clear message: don’t touch me.

“No dur,” Klaus said. “The only issue is that I’m not too strong, nor an alchemist, so if one of those things got to me, I’d be done for.”

“Things?” Edward asked as Klaus began walking again.

“Yeah. Ghosts. Or zombies. Whatever. They’re plaguing the town at night.”

Alphonse shivered; it was a good thing they’d found the military hotel.

“Zombies?” Ed inquired. They were at the foot of the hill now, the path snaking through areas densely crowded with shrubs and trees, though calling it a forest would be an overstatement. “Zombies don’t exist.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw them!” Klaus exclaimed. “They took my sister. They’re a menace, and no one’s doing anything about it! And you know what? I recognized one of them- it was Karin!”

“Ka-who?”

“Karin!” Klaus repeated. “I never knew her personally, but she was a family friend, so Dad has pictures everywhere. She was some florist lady with special blue roses or something- I wasn’t really listening, flowers are boring- but she died years ago after she tried something stupid like traversing the mountain pass in the rain and in the dark to boot. She showed up at my sister’s funeral with this hideous grin on her face. Dad says I was imagining things. Mom freaked and she won’t let me out after dark now, but I told her not to worry, because so far the zombies have only eaten cute girls.”

“Well, of course,” Ed said. “They always take cute girls, don’t they?”

Klaus glowered at him, but instead said, “I talked to Majhal about it, but he denies anything’s going on. I think he’s just too afraid he’ll pee his pants if he sees a real zombie, and he told me Karin would never ever do something like that. He won’t listen. I mean, of course people wouldn’t do that crap when they’re alive, but now that they’re the living dead, they’ll do whatever the heck they feel like! It screws your brain up, you know?” Klaus even made a circular motion with his hand around his head.

“You can’t bring the dead back to life,” Edward said.

“Then what’s killing all the cute girls in town, huh?” Klaus retorted. “A sudden Girl Virus? The cooties?”

“I dunno,” Ed admitted. “But it isn’t zombies.”

“You want proof?” Klaus demanded. “I’ll give you proof- me and the guys are heading to the cemetery tonight, just after dark, and we’re going to catch a zombie and drag it to the military. Then they’ll have to do something!”

“Sounds stupid,” Ed said.

“You’re stupid,” Klaus replied.

The rest of the journey was in silence, until they could see a house in the distance and Klaus said, “There you go, cowards.” Then he ran down the lane back towards town.

Edward watched him for a moment, then said, “Hey, Al?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it just me… or is Klaus a girl?”

“A girl?!” Al exclaimed. “I didn’t notice…”

“Well, if she’s afraid zombies are coming after all the cute girls…” Ed snickered. “Zombies! It’s just too funny. Ah, come on. Let’s say hello to Majhal.”

Majhal’s near-mansion-sized house had no knocker, but an ostentatious doorbell that screeched too loudly. A moment after Ed let go of it to plug his ears, the door was opened by a man looking just shy of sixty years, long unkempt brown hair hanging down towards his back. He didn’t look all that talented, but Edward had learned not to judge by appearances- especially since he was himself an unlikely candidate for one of Amestris’s most elite alchemists.

“Are you Majhal?” Edward said. “I’m Edward Elric, and this is my brother Alphonse. We’d like to have a quick word with you.”

“Of course,” Majhal replied. “Please, come in.” Majhal led them to a sitting room and sat opposite them in a plush leather armchair. “What brings you here?”

“Do you know anything about the Philosopher’s Stone?” Edward asked. “Surely you’ve come across mention of it during your research.”

“I have,” Majhal said, “but nothing of importance. It was mainly trite allusions and vague obscurations. Is there a particular reason you seek it?”

“Intellectual curiosity,” Edward replied. It had turned out to be the safest response to that question. “That’s too bad. Okay, then, if you don’t mind, could we talk about some biological alchemy?”

“That’s really not my area of expertise,” Majhal chuckled, “but I’d be glad to help in any way I could. You see, I’ve been dabbling into it myself. You can never know too much about alchemy.”

“True,” Edward said. “So, my first question-“

“Are there really zombies plaguing the town?” Al interrupted. Edward glanced at his brother and laughed.

“Of course not, Al! What are you wasting his time with that for?”

Majhal smiled softly. “Have you been talking to Klaus? She’s a stubborn one. I can’t believe she’s throwing that garbage at newcomers.”

“Is it true?” Al pressed.

“As your brother says, it is preposterous,” Majhal said. “It’s true that there is an odd amount of girls going missing, but honestly, I’m not sure if it’s anything for you to be too concerned about; the police are looking into it, despite what Klaus is saying. I know for a fact that half of those girls were running away from home, and they’re probably not dead- just wandering around doing who-knows-what. Soon enough they’ll get tired of it and come home. And the others… well, that’s more likely the work of a serial killer or kidnapper than zombies. Of course it’s worrisome, but it’s being resolved as we speak; Klaus is simply upset at what she perceives to be a lack of progress and drawing conclusions because few bodies have been found, and because she imagined Karin at her sister’s funeral.” He stressed the word ‘imagine’ strongly, as if to make certain there could be no other alternative.

“I guess so,” Alphonse said.

“And anyway,” Majhal said, “Karin would never kill or harm another human being. You know what it’s like to be quick to blame and overly imaginative, mm? Klaus is a troubled young girl. She’s unsure of herself and of the world around her, and her sister’s death didn’t help matters.”

“So why does she dress as a paperboy?”

Majhal shrugged. “Probably to prove a point, though what I have no idea.” He sighed. “I hope it’s not too much to ask, but could you look out for her if you see her? Her parents and I are good friends, and I’m worried she’d do something rash like head out to the cemetery…”

“Eh heh heh, what do you know?” Edward leaned back and crossed his legs. “Okay, but in return- equivalent exchange, you understand?- let’s talk alchemy.”

 

 

The cemetery smelled nothing like death. Its scent was like that of freshly-wet dirt after a young rain. Though it was dark, Edward could see fairly well within the radius of the light cast by the lantern he held in his left hand.

Klaus was sitting at the foot of the graveyard, clearly ticked off.

“Your friends bail out on you?” Edward called.

Klaus jumped to her feet. “They’re all spineless wimps!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here, you glow-worm? I thought there were no such things as zombies to you.”

“Call me curious,” Edward replied. “And it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“So what’s the plan?” Alphonse asked.

“We find a zombie,” Klaus said, “and jump it.”

“That’s it?” Alphonse said.

“Sounds good to me,” Edward yawned. “How long are we waiting?”

“Until dawn comes!” Klaus said. “Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. No way.” Edward leaned against a tree stump and whistled, but Klaus shot him another nasty look. “What?”

“Keep quiet. You’ll scare them away!”

“Are we talking about zombies or fish?” Edward said. Still, though, he quieted down.

Cemeteries always have that strange ambience that elongate shadows and enunciate peculiarities. Though Edward didn’t consider himself superstitious, he could still feel the chill plucking at his spine, shivers crawling up and down his limbs. Maybe he was cold, or maybe it was something else.

Klaus, despite her big words, was clearly freaking out as well. Her eyes were wide and she was constantly rearranging her grip on a wooden stick she’d found lying around. Edward stared at it with blank judgement. Like that’d be any help against anything, zombie or not.

Just when he was about to call it quits and tell Klaus that she was welcome to play patrol in the cemetery all she wanted, Klaus pointed straight ahead and screamed.

It didn’t appear very zombie-like. The thing looked more like a sculpture. Its long, flowing hair blew around it as the wind attacked, and it had a very wooden quality to its skin, while its dress, stiff velvet, crinkled around it was it moved straight towards them.

“It’s her! It’s Karin!” Klaus shouted.

Edward leapt in front of the thing in a flash. It was no zombie, but it was something that shouldn’t exist. His mind was already trying to explain it away, but he came to no rational conclusion. Instead, he clapped his hands together and slammed them against the ground.

The earth beneath the creature crumbled, and it plummeted down into the newly-created hole.

“There,” Edward said, standing. His hands were shaking slightly; he had to admit the sight of it had shocked him a little, but now that it was contained, it was nothing more than an anomaly to be examined. “Your zombie’s caught. Are you happy now?” He said this with his back to the hole, eyeing Klaus with displeasure and crossing his arms.

“Yes,” Klaus said, and spat. Edward rolled his eyes.

The young girl walked to the hole and peered down at the creature, shivering. After a moment, Edward followed. “That’s a golem, I think,” Ed said. “Look at that. Its skin is all wooden.” Catching Klaus’s eye, he added, “Uh, that’s like a moving doll, kind of.”

“A doll, huh?” Klaus tightened her hold on the stick and then tentatively reached it down into the hole, then poked at it. It didn’t swat the piece of wood away as Klaus continued smacking it around, but merely looked up with flat, lifeless painted-on eyes.

“Yeah, that’s creepy,” Alphonse said.

“Why’s the doll moving?” Klaus asked. “It can’t talk, can it?”

“Do you see a mouth that can move on that thing?” Edward scoffed. “Bad art doesn’t count as workable body parts.”

“So it’s not Karin back from the dead…” Klaus mused. “Okay, glow-worm, what the heck do I do with this thing now?”

“I don’t know; that’s your problem,” Edward replied, but he was crouching down and peering into the hole too, curious despite himself. “Hey, Al… I can’t see too well since it’s kind of dark… but is that a transmutation circle on the back of its arm?”

“I think so,” Alphonse said. “It looks an awful lot like a blood rune.”

“Hmm…” Edward turned to Klaus and said, “Do you think it’d attack me if I went down to get a closer look? I’m not a cute girl, after all.”

“It’s your funeral,” Klaus muttered. “If you die, I’m not even going to move you. I’ll just dump some dirt right over this hole and put a lame gravestone on it. ‘Here lies Glow-Worm, Scoffer of She Who Was Right.’”

“But it didn’t even retaliate when you were whacking it,” Edward noted.

“It’s just waiting to catch us off-guard!” Klaus exclaimed.

“Give me that lantern, Al,” Ed said. “If worse comes to worse, I’ll torch it if it gets too violent.” He grinned. “Wood burns really well, after all.”

Al handed Edward the lantern, and then the State Alchemist smiled once more before leaping into the hole. He landed right in front of the doll. It scampered backwards to the edge of its confines, leaning against the dirt, its face turned towards him so those eternally-smiling painted features could bore right into him.

“What are you?” Ed whispered, drawing closer. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said louder.

The doll put its hands up, clenched into clumsy fists as Ed took another step, raising the lantern. As some of the light fell onto it, the doll flinched and pressed itself against the wall, as if hoping its weight would bore a tunnel of escape behind it.

There, on its forearm, was a hasty scrawl, not the blood rune Ed officially thought. After all, a wooden body wouldn’t react to a blood seal the way a metal one would; there was no iron to bind one to the other. Still, though, it was clearly some sort of final transmutation circle, trapping a soul to the timbrous corpse.

“Let me take a look,” Edward said, though he seriously doubted it understood spoken language. It gave no reaction as he closed the distance between them and gently wrapped his fingers around its arm, pulling it up to see, though it did try to avoid the lantern in his other hand.

It was a circle Edward had never seen before, most probably an unprecedented work. Alchemists were always trying to create new transmutation circles, though the work was dangerous and could easily backfire, often leaving more injury than gain and more risk than reward.

All of a sudden, the creature pulled its arm out of his grasp, and Edward leapt back, surprised at its strength; the motion caused his shoulder to jerk, throbbing. “Hey!” he cried as it turned from him and began to scrabble up the side of the hole. It reached the lip of it and pulled its hands on the edge, beginning to raise itself, when Klaus shrieked like a dying banshee and stomped on its foot. Hard. Edward could hear the splintering of wood, and a moment later, the doll fell back to the bottom, its hand mangled beyond recognition.

“What the heck, Klaus?” he called up at her.

“What the heck, glow-worm?” she retorted. “What happened to torching it if it gets too violent?” She continued berating him, but the creature emitted a shriek of its own (though how, since it had no vocal cords, was beyond Edward’s comprehension) and then fell limp, lifeless. It refused to budge as Ed poked it with his foot, gently at first and then harder and harder, until he stubbed his own toe. The pain was nothing special, but still he clutched it and bit his lip to keep from crying out- that’d be uncool.

Edward clapped his hands together and collapsed a side of the hole into a set of stairs, then dragged the doll up. “This is definitely the work of an alchemist,” Edward asserted. “I don’t know what happened, but it looks like it’s… er, dead.” He sighed and turned to Klaus. “What kind of alchemy does Majhal research or specialize in?”

“It’s not Majhal!” Klaus shouted. “He may be a coward, but he’s not a killer or a person who’d try committing a taboo! It’s true Karin’s death really shook him up- according to Dad, it shook the entire town up- but that doesn’t mean he’s the one sticking souls in dolls!”

“Okay, then,” Ed said. He could feel his blood beginning to boil underneath his temples. Edward understood Klaus’s defensiveness, but what other alchemists were in the area? Who else would be capable of such a thing? “You got any other ideas?”

“No,” Klaus said, looking down at her feet. Her hands curled and uncurled, no doubt as she was contemplating slugging him again. Edward instinctively took a step back, but the girl made no aggressive move towards him. “I don’t know. Besides… Majhal specializes in earthen alchemy. Metals and all that.”

“But Klaus, he’s the only gifted alchemist in these parts-”

“Someone might be hiding it!”

“Not likely.”

“It might be outsiders! Visitors or tourists or something!”

“And who else is visiting?” Ed snapped, a little more forcefully than he meant to. “Who else is in your backwoods town, other than us?”

Klaus pursed her lips. “Shut up. You don’t know anything.”

“Which you keep reminding me!”

“SHUT UP!” Klaus repeated. “Fine. I’ll take that frickin’ doll over to Majhal’s myself. He can decipher it and we can find the real culprit.”

“Good luck carrying it,” Edward scoffed.

“Brother,” Alphonse said. “Maybe there’s a better way to approach this.”

“No way. If she’s crazy, she’s crazy. No one’s going to take her soul. Not when she looks more masculine than I do,” Edward said.

Klaus flushed a deep scarlet, but grabbed the doll (hesitantly) and started to march off.

“You’re not going to let her do this, are you? If you really think Majhal’s the one…” Alphonse trailed off, and gazed at his brother. Edward turned his eyes away. Sometimes he swore he could see the light of emotion, trapped in the hollow darkness of armor where Alphonse should have had eyes of  his own.

“What do I care? All she’s done is insult me,” Edward muttered, but he was starting down the path anyway, a good distance behind her.

“You’re going to follow her, aren’t you?” Alphonse said. “You think Majhal is going to reveal something to Klaus that he wouldn’t to us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Al,” Edward said. “It just so happens that Klaus took the only road out of this godforsaken cemetery.” Yet when he reached the fork in which the path split towards either the hill where Majhal lived or, to the right, the village, Edward strode to the left without a word.

“You’re so predictable, you know that?”

“Be quiet, Al. You’ll let them know we’re coming. Initiate stealth mode or something.”

“I don’t have a stealth mode!” Al protested.

“Seriously, Al. Shut up.”

 

Klaus struggled with the wooden doll the whole way up the hill. It was heavier than it looked, and every now and then, she felt phantom movement and would drop it, staring at it as if a hexagram had suddenly appeared on its forehead (and for all Klaus cared, she would have treated it the same way). But it was only her imagination; the second she put the golem down, it would lie there, still and inanimate, until she picked it up again and dragged it by its hands.

Progress was slow. She’d left the lantern with Edward (mistake number one). It was too heavy for her to carry, so she was dragging it along, its legs leaving small ridges in the dirt path (mistake number two). Somewhere along the way she’d lost her hat, and her hair had fallen down to her shoulders. It wouldn’t have been too much of an issue if it’d stayed put, but the wind was whistling through the trees, moaning in the darkness of the woods, and her black locks whipped around her uncontrollably (mistake number three). Klaus couldn’t even remember what she did with the stick, and at this point she wasn’t sure if there were more zombie dolls or if the need to defend herself had passed. She leaned towards the latter, even if it was just hopeful thinking (mistake number four).

The lights were still on at Majhal’s mansion when she finally reached it. Sweaty, she let go of the golem and left it on his porch. Before she rang the doorbell, she removed her vest and stood in her pressed shirt and trousers, panting from the exertion. How many hours had it taken her to get here? Was time was it? She barely spared a thought to whether or not her mother would have found the pillows she’d stuffed under her covers. It was stereotypical, but she didn’t have a better way of faking where she was supposed to be.

Klaus took a deep breath, hoping Majhal wouldn’t be too upset at the late interruption, and rang the doorbell (mistake number five).

The door opened a scant minute later. Majhal wasn’t in his pajamas, and a book was in his left hand. Klaus wasn’t too good at reading, so she didn’t bother trying to sound the title out. “Klaus? What’s happening here?” He smiled good-heartedly, with the expression of one who was humoring a child way out of line.

She pointed to the golem and said, “I found this in the graveyard. Edward says it’s the work of an alchemist. With this, you and I have a huge clue as to who’s killed my sister, and taken all the girls!”

The smile slipped from Majhal’s face. “Klaus, did you come all the way out here at this hour just to badger me with that load of nonsense?”

“What nonsense?” she protested, and gestured wildly. “It’s right there, in your face! Someone in this town has a freaking Karin fetish or something! How else do you explain it?”

She paused. Majhal was staring at her, and she couldn’t tell his thoughts from his face. His gaze flitted from her hair, windblown but still retaining its lustrous quality, to fall down to her blouse, which she realized a little too late had a rather wide v-neck. But surely it was her imagination. It had to be. She could trust Majhal. He was a family friend. She’d grown up with him constantly visiting the house or at her father’s notoriously bad barbeques, for Pete’s sake! If Majhal couldn’t be trusted, she might as well trust nobody.

“Why don’t you bring it inside?” Majhal said. His tone was kind, and Klaus relaxed. It had been her imagination. He’d just been thinking of how best to proceed, that had to be it. “You look a little bent out of shape, dear. I’ll find you a hat and a coat, and we can discuss your discovery over a treat and something warm to drink, mm? It’s cold outside- I have no idea how you’re not freezing.”

“Sounds good,” Klaus said, hefting the golem again and dragging it indoors (mistake number six). The door shut behind her with a barely noticeable click, nothing ominous about it.

“Wait right here in the foyer, please,” Majhal said. “I’ll be back with a hot chocolate.”

Klaus nodded and left the golem against the wall, then strode promptly to the other side, putting a distance between the two of them and staring at it. There was no change, however. It’d been motionless for hours.

She heard footsteps and whirled around, ready to launch into the speech she’d prepared when she dragged the doll up. Before she could begin, however, her mouth already open and the word ‘Majhal’ already escaping, a terrific crack of pain plunged into her skull, and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

“I’m sorry, Klaus,” Majhal said. “You should have kept your nose out of things and stuck to being the angry paperboy.”

 

“She went in!” Edward cursed. “We can’t very well ring the doorbell. Help me break a window.”

“Break a window?” Alphonse said.

“If something bad’s happening, we just saved her life and Majhal gets put in prison. No one will care,” Edward said. “If I’m wrong- and I really hope I am- I’ll just pay the guy enough to get a replacement. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Fine,” Alphonse sighed. With a crash of splintered glass, Al drove his hand into a window, then carefully removed the jagged pieces to create an opening large enough to Ed to squeeze through.

“I’ll unlock the back door,” Edward whispered, and darted inside.

He hadn’t seen this part of Majhal’s mansion before. It was gloomy and worn, with faded photographs and antique furniture. He recognized one of the dolls in a picture hanging on the wall- or rather, the woman the dolls were clearly based on, Karin. Her features were much smoother and sweeter in that frozen snapshot of time than they were crudely drawn on wood.

Edward shook his head and snuck down the hallway until he came to a door that all signs seemed to point to leading outside, and opened it. He stuck his head out, the fresh air like a blast of coolness against his face, and urgently called, “Al! Al! Get in here!”

A moment later, he and his brother walked down the hall. “Keep your ears open, Brother,” said Al. “We don’t know where they went.”

“The basement.”

Edward whirled around, clamping a hand over his mouth. A worn, middle-aged woman around Majhal’s age stood there. She was bleeding on her right forearm, and Ed guessed she’d climbed through the window after him. “I followed you,” she explained. “I live on the hill too. I saw the young girl carry that soul bind up here, and then I saw you after her, so I put two and two together.”

“You know what Majhal’s doing here, don’t you?” Ed said.

She nodded slowly. “I wish I would do something about it, but I’m… too afraid… He was an old friend of mine. I can’t stand to see him like this.”

“So you know they’re in the basement?” Alphonse asked.

“That’s the only place he’d be,” she answered. “I think I’ve known him long enough to guess that.”

“Who are you?” Edward said.

“Libby,” she replied.

“I’d love to ask you way more questions, since you’re completely suspicious, but seeing as we don’t have the time…” Ed said, “... why don’t you just tell me where the basement is?”

“I’ll show you,” Libby said. “This way.”

 

Klaus awoke slowly, and the whole world spun around her as she did. When her nausea settled and the rotating room transformed into the worst headache she’d ever had in her life, she realized she was tied to a chair.

In the middle of a transmutation circle.

In what looked to be a basement.

In Majhal’s house.

What.

The.

Heck.

“Majhal!” she screamed, catching sight of the alchemist completing the circle with a large piece of chalk. “What the heck? Let me go right now or I swear I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” He didn’t give her so much as a peek, instead blowing some stray chalk dust away from his circle, then examining yet another wooden doll.

“I’ll- I’ll- I’ll…” But Klaus knew there was nothing she could do. She was defenseless, immobilized, and probably about to die.

No, she realized, and shuddered. He’s not going to kill me. He’s going to put me in one of those dolls. I can’t believe Majhal’s behind this.

Klaus may have been quick-tempered. She was definitely stubborn. But she was not slow. It didn’t take her more than two seconds to put two and two together. The doll that showed up at my sister’s funeral might very well have been my sister. She fell into this trap. Majhal did this to her. My God, Majhal did this to her!

“It won’t hurt, Klaus,” Majhal said, tone even and reassuring as he stepped out of the circle. “It’ll be over before you know it. I’d do well not to resist the transmutation too much; otherwise the vessel might reject your soul.”

“Go to hell,” she spat.

Majhal chuckled. “You’re really quite annoying, you know that? I suppose it’s going to be very hard for you to be unable to speak from now on, all those angry little thoughts to yourself…”

Since she might very well never get the chance to do so again, Klaus let loose a furious stream of curses and insults that, were her mother present, would make her faint, and most probably would curdle a sailor’s blood.

Majhal merely smiled and placed his hand against the circle.

 

By the time Edward reached the basement, a thin light was beginning to glow underneath the door. “The time for subtlety is past,” he said to Al. “Let’s do this.”

He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing softly, and shoved them at the door. When his palms made contact, an enormous blaze of luminosity accompanied the door melting into the wall, thickening it but giving Edward space enough to enter the basement.

Then, with a burst of adrenaline, Edward pumped his legs and tackled Majhal away from the transmutation circle. The light dissipated, and the two rolled on the floor, kicking and punching. One moment Edward had the upper hand, pinning Majhal’s arms down. “You scum!” Edward shouted. “How many people were you fooling? How could you even look at Klaus and her family after what you’ve done?”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” he spat, and placed a deft kick to Edward’s stomach. The young State Alchemist doubled over and took a step back, and Majhal rose to his feet. His ring, inscribed with a small circle of its own, flashed as he grabbed the nearest metal rod and turned it to a sword, long black iron gleaming wickedly. “You don’t know a thing about love.”

“This isn’t love!” Edward retorted. “It’s an obsession!” He ducked as Majhal swiped at him, trimming a couple hairs off the tip of his braid. Clapping his hands again, then sliding it over his metal forearm, the automail elongated into a sword of his own.

Majhal thrust at him, but Edward parried with a vertical slash that drove his sword up and out of the older alchemist’s grip, rotating in the air.

“I will see Karin again!” Majhal wailed. “Even if it is nothing but a small, inconsequential doll filled with the soul of the local tomboy, it’s better than being forsaken alone.”

“Majhal, watch out!” Edward cried as the sword began its downward descent.

“I will see Karin again!” Majhal repeated.

The sword arced down and with a soft schink, buried through Majhal’s torso and stuck, quivering, in the floor.

Alphonse raced to Klaus and tried to untie her, but he knocked the chair over on its side. “You doofus!” Klaus said. “Get me out of here!”

Libby screamed and fell to her knees at the doorway of the basement. “All this… for Karin,” she whispered. “I suppose love truly is blind.”

“Blind to what?” Alphonse said. Edward stood there with his mouth agape, staring at Majhal’s body. It wouldn’t compute. He’d even given the man warning. Why didn’t he… was it Edward’s fault? Did Edward just kill someone?

Libby slowly stood, legs trembling. “You two have just meted out justice in the town’s stead,” she said, “and yet I can’t help but feel there could have been another way.”

“Equivalent Exchange,” Edward managed to say. “If a life is worth one life, even this won’t atone for what he’s done to all these girls.”

“Darn right,” Klaus said. About half the ropes were gone, but she was still bound to the chair. “I get what the old lady’s saying, though. Half of me is upset that Majhal could really do this. That he’s really… that he deserved…”

“Equivalent Exchange,” Libby repeated. “Thirty years ago, I fell off a mountain pass and lost my memory. I spent twenty long years in a city founded on that very principle before I remembered my past again. The townsfolk called it Wisteria. It sounds idyllic, and it sounds fair- but it’s a cruel, cruel stricture.” She sighed. “I should have told him, instead of waiting to see him notice.”

“Notice what?” Klaus asked, finally free. She stood and rubbed her wrists, red from friction with the rough ropes.

“That…” Libby pulled back her hair, to show a blue rose plaited into her braid. “...That I’m Karin.”

 

“So in the end, this too was a bust,” Edward sighed.

Alphonse and his brother were sitting at the town’s only train station, waiting for the eleven o’clock express. They’d been treated like heroes when they returned Klaus to her parents, and though the townsfolk questioned Majhal’s death, Klaus spoke up and explained the truth. The incident was reported to the local military, but Edward wasn’t too concerned- his reputation as Full Metal Alchemist was far-reaching, and the bureaucrats would be hesitant to mess with one of the military’s top dogs.

“Yeah,” Alphonse agreed. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Quit asking!” Edward clicked his tongue. “I’m fine.”

“Hey!”

The two boys turned. A young girl in a blue dress, hair straightened and hanging down her shoulders, bounded up to them. “Thanks, guys.”

“...Klaus…?” Edward asked.

“Yeah. What?” she said.

“Uh… it’s just… you look better when you’re not dressed as a paperboy. That’s all,” he said. His cheeks were flushed a light pink.

“I wanted to say thanks again,” Klaus said, and handed him a basket of bread. “Mom made these. For the road.”

“Uh, thanks,” Edward said.

“If you’re ever back in town,” Klaus continued, “feel free to visit.”

“I will,” Edward promised, “but you should know that I will most likely never be in your boondocks, back-woods, gooney-ridden town ever again.”

Klaus laughed. “I’m sure you’ll find Wisteria more interesting.”

“Maybe,” Alphonse said.

“Maybe,” Edward repeated.

 

_“Majhal did research the Philosopher’s stone,” Karin explained as she gently carried Klaus out of the basement and down Majhal’s steps. “I think he tried a human transmutation once, to bring me back. I’m not sure he could even start, because I’m clearly not dead.”_

_“So he lied…” Edward said._

_“At this point, it’s nothing new,” Klaus snorted._

_“I’m sure his notes are around the house somewhere,” Karin said. “Or you could try heading to Wisteria. I’m confident that a whole city based on Equivalent Exchange could tell you the price of that you seek.”_

_“Tell me the price of that which I seek…” Edward mused._

  
  



End file.
